<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Don’t Wake Us Up. by Cltus</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30093390">Don’t Wake Us Up.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cltus/pseuds/Cltus'>Cltus</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Hannibal (TV) Fusion, Character Death, Drowning, Graphic Description, Graphic Description of Corpses, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, Hannibal is Hannibal, I see you every night in my dreams, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Mild Gore, Mind Palace, One Shot, Past Character Death, Post-Canon, Post-Fall (Hannibal), Sassy Will Graham</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 21:55:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,236</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30093390</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cltus/pseuds/Cltus</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Few ghosts haunt Hannibal, but none have been as impressionable as his mongoose. </p><p> </p><p>Title taken from “Lights Are On” by Tom Rosenthal.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>45</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Don’t Wake Us Up.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/twoheadedbard/gifts">twoheadedbard</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Hannibal lays on his cot, a white jumpsuit covered by a thin cotton sheet. The air around him has the strong smell of disinfectant plagued his senses. The brick walls serve their purpose to hold the cold in the cell longer. Hannibal wasn’t allowed to decorate the walls yet. Alana had forbidden him from doing so. The lights are out, he’s supposed to be sleeping. The only light filtering into the cell is from the upper hallway, far away from Hannibal’s cell. Barney will be displeased with him when Hannibal starts showing sleep deprivation when he visits. The faint smell of sweat touches his nose as Hannibal closes his eyes, trying to go to sleep.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t think we would end back in here. I thought we would’ve died together.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hannibal’s eyebrow twitches at the sound. It had become a ritual for Hannibal’s night, for him to talk when Hannibal was just about to sleep. Hannibal opens his eyes, not looking in the direction of the culprit. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why don’t we discuss Achilles and Patroclus?” The voice asks him. Hannibal doesn’t answer, but a faint chuckle makes Hannibal suspect it’s not the end of the conversation. Hannibal turns over in the cot, the metal creaking slightly under his weight. Hannibal’s frown deepens as he stares into the brick wall.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Or are we now Poseidon and Nerites? We have years to discuss this topic, Hannibal.” The voice taunts him. Hannibal finally decides to acknowledge the voice after reaching his final straw with the culprit, hindering his sleep.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What do you want me to say, Will? Aren’t you tired of tormenting me?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Silence meets him. Hannibal immediately regrets responding as he hears the click of the loudspeaker.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Please go to sleep, Dr. Lecter.” Barney’s firm voice tells him. Hannibal doesn’t respond, finding himself angry that he responded to Will in the first place. The speaker clicks back off, and Hannibal is left alone again until he feels a dip in the mattress.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hannibal…” Will breathes out. Hannibal closes his eyes, avoiding looking at Will.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re not here. Please leave.” Hannibal whispers. Will chuckles as he leans over and places his weight on Hannibal. There’s no warmth to the touch, just an empty, heavy space laying on him. Hannibal’s heartaches from Will’s touch, guilt swelling his heart.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course I’m here. Just like Mischa is running around your halls. Have you locked her away? Something you don’t want me to see?” Will murmurs. Hannibal wisely keeps his mouth shut this time as Will tries to have him talk again. Hannibal feels Will run his hands through Hannibal’s hair, trying to get a reaction from him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This is your second day in a row staying up. They’ll drug you again if you don’t sleep.” Will whispers to him. Hannibal is well aware of that fact. Will isn’t required to inform him, yet it seems he’s still concerned about Hannibal. Hannibal squeezed his eyes shut, ignoring Will once again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Hannibal opens his eyes, Will stands in Cappella Palatina, fiddling with a prayer candle. Glancing back at Hannibal and leaving him breathless, the warm sun rays reflect off Will, creating a halo around his brown hair and his eyes getting brighter. A smile stretches on his cheeks as he notices Hannibal, getting closer to Hannibal. A warm hand cups his cheek, and he’s helpless, melting into Will’s touch. The ache of an improper bed frame disappearing, stepping closer to close the distance of their bodies, holding onto Will’s hip to rest his head on his shoulder.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The candles blow out, leaving the smell of smoke in their wake. The sun abandons their cathedral, making the two plunge into darkness, only holding onto each other as the roar of the ocean beating on the building outside.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I won’t leave you.” Hannibal promises, pulling back and looking into Will’s eyes. Will’s eyes now were sunken in with a yellow, purple tint around them. His skin unnaturally pales with his lips turning blue, and a cough rips itself out of Will, causing seawater to cover the front of their shirts. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Out of instinct Hannibal jerks back, but Will’s cold hands grip him. Will’s jaw opens, and seawater pours out, covering them in ice-cold water. The room quickly starts to fill, Hannibal fights to break away to swim away, but Will holds him still. The seawater is almost at Hannibal’s nose. He tries to tilt his head back and keep breathing oxygen. Will’s grip loosens, and Hannibal quickly starts to swim away, the cathedral melting away to rocky terrain. Sharp, jagged rocks to his left while the ocean is pushing him ever closer to them. Hannibal is almost to the surface, his lungs begging for him to breathe, a sharp burn of desperation tingles across his lungs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hannibal’s hand breaks through the surface. Then something grabs his ankle. When Hannibal looks back, he sees Will. His flesh is bloated in some areas, with his skin slothing off as he grips Hannibal. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I won’t leave you.” Will gurgles, bubbles blowing into his face</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hannibal sits straight up in bed, panting heavily. Throwing his legs over the side of the bed and leaning forward, with his head cradled in his hands. His heart pounds against his chest, his breathing uneven as he tries to calm himself. The lights click on, telling him it’s time to wake up and that Barney will arrive with his food soon.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It wasn’t that bad.” Will quips. Hannibal looks up to the corner of his cell. Will leans against the plexiglass wall to stare at the door, his appearance back to his natural state instead of what Hannibal dreamed. “Mischa whispered that her nightmares were worse.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t talk about her.” Hannibal warned. Will glanced at him; his lips turned down in a snarl.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why not? You don’t respond to me. I’m going mad with loneliness because of you.” Will spits out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I never wanted—“</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There’s a knock on the door before it opens; Hannibal closes his mouth in an instant. Will is looking at Barney, wheeling the food cart, giving Hannibal a calm smile.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good morning Dr. Lecter, today’s menu is a protein scramble, milk, and toast.” Barney slides the food tray in from his side and pushes it through. Hannibal looks over to see Will grimace, signaling that this meal will be the same bland slop he has every other day, getting up when Barney walks away and pulls the cart with him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, Barney,” Hannibal politely takes the food and brings it over to his table, setting it down and sitting in front of it, playing with his food with the provided fork.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If you stop eating, they’ll shove a tube down your throat...” Will has moved closer to him, now perched on the table. His body twisted around to look at Hannibal and aid with messing with the food. He takes his finger and sticks it into the protein scramble, pulling it back to gag at the strange water residue on his finger.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You might want to eat the toast.” Will shook off the strange liquid and poked at the milk, pushing it closer to Hannibal. Hannibal reluctantly took it, taking a hesitant sip out of it. Alana had gone through the trouble to slip antipsychotic medication into his meals. Milk, applesauce, and even ice cream were offered as sealants. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As soon as the bitter taste hit his tongue, Hannibal placed the cup down, getting up with the cup in hand, and walked to the toilet. Hannibal pours it into the toilet, taking a pause, then taking some toilet paper off the roll, dropping it in, and then flushing. Hannibal washes the cup with his sink, then shakes the excess water off and walks back. He sits down at his chair and takes the piece of toast into his mouth, chewing mindlessly as Will slowly stretches across the table.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hannibal’s eyes instantly caught Will’s shirt coming untucked, slowly pulling up to show Hannibal’s scar. Hannibal’s audible gulp echoes in the room, Will’s dark eyes find Hannibal’s maroon ones. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A smirk stretches on his lips as they slowly turn blue, his skin turning grey, and Hannibal’s desire trickles into shame. Hannibal tears his eyes from Will and watches the door. A cold chill runs down his spine as boney hands grip his shoulders, and a crisp kiss is placed on his ear, then to his cheek, getting ever closer to his lips.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She’s watching us now.” Will whispers. Hannibal looks at the window through the door to his cell, catching brown hair moving to the side, and the door opens. Alana stepped in a perfect emerald green pantsuit with a white blouse. Her black pumps were clicking on the floor as she made the room move around her. Hannibal finishes his toast, placing his cup on the tray and pushing the tray to the corner of the table.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why, hello, Alana.” Hannibal smiles, ignoring the frigid anger pouring from Will. Alana adjusts her stance as she leans against her cane, looking around the cell before giving Hannibal a forced smile.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hello, Hannibal.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What do I owe for your visit?” Hannibal folds his hands in front of him. Alana grips her cane in displeasure, forcing herself to keep smiling.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re getting a visitor.” Alana’s eyes linger on Hannibal’s cup. Hannibal nods and joins her gaze.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The milk tasted quite bitter today. What was the pill today? Clozapine? Amisulpride?” Hannibal quizzes. Alana gets a sour look on her face, her eyes brows knitting together in anger.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Quetiapine.” Alana replies tersely. Hannibal scoffs, freeing his hands to get up and pick his tray up. Placing it into the slot and pushing it to the other side before sitting down.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Without consulting me? Shall I contact my lawyer?” Hannibal lowers his voice, threatening her. He watches Alana pale and adjusts her body to be closer to the door. Then, he smiles. “I jest, of course.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A jest… of course.” Alana mutters, glancing at the tray with contemplation. “Not a fan of the protein scramble.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He’s a horrendous cook, really Alana, you should fire him. Made Wi-- me gag at it… liquid.” Hannibal caught himself, but he saw Alana give a pained look. Silence lingers between them. Hannibal glanced to his cot, where Will has stretched out once again, staring at the ceiling in boredom.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll try my best to behave. I am working on bringing my books back. You promised after all.” Hannibal sighs. Alana nods, her heels clicking on the floor as she adjusts her weight. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Barney will get your tray. I remembered you wanted an Italian Vogue, it’s a reward for behaving so far.” Alana then turns closer to the door, her hand already on the handle before Hannibal clears his throat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you and Goodbye Alana, it’s always lovely to have you visit.” Hannibal purrs. Alana shivers in disgust, forcing another smile.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Goodbye, Hannibal.” Alana leaves Hannibal alone, the door slamming on her way out. Barney comes in moments later, taking the tray in one hand, placing a magazine in the slot, and sending it over. Hannibal waits until he leaves to retrieve the new reading material. Engrossing himself fast, sitting back at his desk as Will continues to laze on their cot.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His ears pick out Barney’s voice informing someone of the rules. The buzzer for the gate went off. His guest was coming, Hannibal decided he would play with them. This guest didn’t give him any proper notice by mail. It was quite rude. Hannibal can hear the click of footsteps on the floor, a pause, then it speeds up again. Hannibal distantly remembers that he had a cell neighbor somewhere; from what he remembers, Miggs was vulgar. He had tried pulling a stunt with Alana and quickly learned his place.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He should swallow his tongue.” Will spat. Hannibal chuckles.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I fear we would lose our toilet again.” Hannibal mutters. The door opens, Hannibal doesn’t look up at the entering party. Shoes click on the floor, and the chair outside his cell is moved to a different position. It doesn’t creak, meaning they haven’t sat down.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dr Lecter.” A young woman’s voice caught Hannibal’s attention. Next was the smell of her cheap perfume. Hannibal kept his head down. Will appeared behind him, leaning over to wrap his arms around Hannibal’s shoulders.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t be rude.” Will whispers into his ear. Hannibal finally looks up, and the air leaves the room. A young woman stood there, brown hair pulled back into a low ponytail with bangs pushed behind her ears. Next were her eyes, one blue and one hazel, framed in round, wide eyes. She looked so similar to Abigail, older by 20 years, but it was her face. That doe-eyed look, her pale, freckled skin, that blue eye--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My name is Clarice Starling. May I talk with you?” Clarice asked. Hannibal slowly closed his magazine. Will stared at her, frowning deeply. Will unwrapped his arms from Hannibal and stepped back. Then a miracle happened.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarice’s eyes flicked past Hannibal.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>To Will.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hannibal took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. She had done something no one in the past 4 years since he returned has done.No one has seen Will. Alana even tried to slip Quetiapine into his meals. But Clarice sees him, Hannibal holds himself back from smiling.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good Morning.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And oh, what a good morning it was.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I wrote this for my dear friend Rosemary for her birthday; they loved it &lt;3</p><p>This is a One-shot! No more chapters or other works for this, but you're free to write a continuation or story inspired by this!! </p><p>Have a great day/night and hoped you enjoyed!!</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>